Rumplcimprcampr
by Evangeline-Sibeliah
Summary: Breaking the Curse brings everyone back to FTL, making Emma the only stranger again. Uncomfortable with the status of the Savior Princess, she urges Rumpelstiltskin to remember their time in Storybrook. Emma/Gold and Emma/Rumpel friendship-romance, 3-shot, M for smex.
1. A Strange Hero

There. She broke the Curse. Like many other first times, it was difficult, awkward, and it didn't go exactly as planned.

Travelling to another world was a novel thing for her as well. For a moment, her senses went haywire as if she could smell flickering lights and taste the movement that pulled her through space without her feet leaving the ground. With a final stomach somersault, she found herself in a stone hall next to a peculiar cupboard and a bleeding David in Mary Margaret's arms.

It was also the first time she killed someone.

Regina was staring at her, shocked and confused, mouth open, slowly looking down Emma's arm to a wand that was jabbed into her side. Recognition flickered in her eyes as if she needed a few seconds to remember who Emma was and what happened.

"It's a wand, you moron," she stuttered, voice strained. "You're supposed to do magic with it, not... stab people..."

"This worked just fine," Emma removed the wand, a stream of blood gushed out and Regina fell to the floor.

"Emma..." the Evil Queen was about to swear vengeance when the lights in her eyes went out.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret reacted to the name. As was about to turn out, Snow White didn't remember the last 28 years, didn't know Storybrook, and had never met Emma before. Nor did anyone else in the castle except for the dead Queen.

But that was the least of her worries when she realized that Henry was nowhere to be found.

"I'll alert the fairies immediately!" Mary Margaret jumped to the window and started luring in a little blue bird.

"Right. Sure. And I'll go do it my way. Where is the man, anyway? He wasn't far behind me when I broke the Curse."

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Mr. Gold. Rumpelstiltskin."

"Oh, that monster is in King Thomas's land, in the prison where he belongs."

The room was silent for a heartbeat.

"Not if I have anything to say about it. How far is that?"

"Two days on horseback."

"Horseback?!"

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

The Curse was broken, has been for the last three days.

The moment between it was cast and lifted felt like years, because it had been years, only not in this world, but nevermind the metaphysics, the Curse came and went and the guard was too far out to hear his excited screaming.

So he tried to tell the rats and when the rats didn't listen, he told the cockroaches. The cockroaches were always up for a discussion, but Rumpelstiltskin had a feeling they were secretly mocking him. They probably thought he was beneath them and idulged him out of pity. Damn them. He'll step on one the first chance he gets and pretend it was an accident.

"Please, my lady, do not go any further!" the guard's distraught cry was carried all the way to Rumpelstiltskin.

"I'm telling you, I have your king's permission," a female voice echoed through the dungeon as well.

Rumpelstiltskin's ears twitched curiously. Who might that bird be? More contemptuous royals to ask for his guidance? He'd better make himself presentable. So he licked his hair down, tucked his shirt inside his pants and hid in the darkest corner. A jumpscare was his favorite kind of first impression.

At last, the visitor was in sight. Lovely hair. Perhaps from Goldilock's family? No. No, she was... That face, that vibe, he knew her... Her name, he knew that name...

"Where's the door?"

"There is none, my lady. The stone of this holy mountain is impenetrable and the bars were forged from dragon teeth. Only the council of fairies has enough magic to open this cage."

"Damn it. The kings agreed to help me but the fairies didn't," she started pacing along the bars. She looked so out of place. A stranger in their world?

Just what was that name, hmm? He could reach out and touch her hair if he wanted. No Rumpel, bad Rumpel, no distractions, think. Her clothing was very interesting, especially the red leather jacket. Rumpelstiltskin liked leather. Only few people shared his fashion taste in these lands. Sadly, basically all of them were also fond of tacky thrones made of human bones. No sense of style at all.

"May I ask why you even want him free, my lady?" the guard inquired.

"_Emma! What a lovely name."_

The guard and the stranger jumped at his sharp voice. Did he say that out loud? What a powerful memory, it felt like reliving the moment. Emma, the savior. He and the savior knew each other in the other world.

"He remembers me," Emma whispered in awe. Emma Emma Emma. Sounded fun to say three times fast, so he did. Her eyes scanned the darkness that his voice was coming from, confused and frustrated. Was she not used to his mannerisms, Emma Emma Emma? What was he like, then? Was he a bore?

"Besides," she cleared her throat, "he helped me defeat the Evil Queen. You owe him freedom. He saved you all."

He did? How fascinating! Rumplestiltskin failed to stiffle a squeal of entertainment.

"Anyway, I've just had a very painful horseriding experience, I'm tired and cranky and you're telling me there's nothing I can do to open this thing?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady."

"Come on, there must be some emergency exit or something."

Rumpelstiltskin giggled. She was funny!

"There's none, my-"

"_My lady_, I know," Emma sighed and paced some more. She wrapped her fingers around the bars, trying to see how solid the construction was. Rumpelstiltskin chose the perfect moment to sneak up on her so that the next time she would look up, she'd be an inch away from his face. He wished someone was giving medals for that skill, he was really good at it. Not to mention that his ugly skin, inhuman eyes and sickly teeth always got a good scare out of poor unfortunate souls.

She, however, didn't jump and didn't scream. She froze, her eyes widened, and then she inspected his face closely, as if she was looking for something. He could sense the weight of her gaze on his skin and he felt almost violated by that woman, that woman who wasn't scared of him, that unpredictable, horrible woman –

She reached out and cupped his face before he finished moving back into the darkness of his cell. Their savior was crazy! Quite wonderfully crazy!

"It _is_ you in there," she breathed the words somewhat emotionally.

Rumpelstiltskin stood petrified.

And then she asked if he remembered her, her eyes searching his with burning intensity.

"_Emma, What a lovely name," his eyes were devouring her, this newcommer, the only newcommer, the future savior. She thanked him politely and looked at him with no fear but also no judgement, only mild curiosity. "Enjoy your stay, Emma."_

"_No idea what got into her," he described his pregnant attacker to Miss Swan and gave her an inspecting look. He would bet his money that that little something that set things into motion was standing right in front of him._

"_What do you want?" – "Oh, I don't know just yet. You'll owe me a favor." She came closer to him, their eye contact sizzling, his browns luring her into the deal and her greens very much aware of it, promising a tough fight even though the word that escaped her mouth was a deep and husky: "Deal."_

_Just before the debate for the next Storybrook sheriff started, Miss Swan peeked out from behind the curtain and her gaze met his. For a good minute, they led a silent dialogue just with their eyes. _

_He observed Mr. Glass lying through his teeth about betraying the mayor because he couldn't watch her destroy other people's lives anymore. "Of course you can't," he let a little bit of irony seep into his voice and Miss Swan's reaction was instantenous. 'You know something,' her peepers zeroed in on him. Thanks to her suspicion, the sheriff would reveal Mr. Glass as a double agent soon after their meeting. _

"Do you remember me?" she asked again.

Yes.

"Not yet, dearie," he answered instead. "Memories come with patience, you see."

"Oh. Okay," she tried to understand the best she could.

The bar in her other hand cracked when her whole body weight pressed against it. They jumped: all three of them.

"Dragon teeth, you say?" she mumbled and wiggled the bar until she broke it.

Rumpelstiltskin fell silent, and still, and serious.

"Impossible!" the guard exclaimed.

Emma just shrugged, took a step back and gave the bars a very brutal kick with her boot. He never saw a lady move quite like that, not even in self-defense. The bars that would never budge beneath his own hands crumbled beneath hers like twigs. She squeezed through the opening she created and came up to his crouching form.

"You can repay me by helping me find my son. Henry – at least him you could remember."

Rumpelstiltskin grinned.

"You should've tried to make that deal with me _before_ you opened my cage."

"I'm letting you out anyway," she offered him a hand to get him up.

Shocked by that answer, he stood up immediately.

"Oh, is your leg alright?" She received another bewildered stare. "Cause it wasn't in the real world."

"_Real world_?" he caught on to those words. "Poor Miss Emma, you are going to be quite miserable here, aren't you?"

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

"There," Rumpelstiltskin jabbed his perfectly ugly finger into a point on a map, "the magic took him to this island."

"Damn, that's far... Couldn't you just... Hocus pocus us over there? Just me and you, not my guards, it'll only take a minute."

"I technically already helped you, dearie," he refused with delight.

"Oh come on, don't be a dick."

Rumpelstiltskin almost tripped on nothing. Don't be a... Don't be a dick?! No one has ever negotiated with him quite like that before! But why did he feel like she had stood up to him before?

"_Gold? You in here?" she was the only one who entered his shop like that. _

"_Thanks, but I'm still not interested," she rejected his offer of help._

"_You set the fire," she seethed, angry at him and terrified about what just happened that she was a part of. "Find another sucker," she slammed the door behind her._

"_You really wanna start that fight?" her voice was low, almost whispering, and deep and velvety. Her threats were silent, just like his. _

"_Look, we're done here." - "Actually, we're not. You're under arrest."_

"_Stop," she touched his arm as he was about to beat a man to death. Somehow, she connected with him immediately and helped him find his self-control._

In the end, he helped out in her search for that little bundle of speech impediments, Henry. The child remembered his mother only vaguely, much like Rumpelstiltskin, and the other boys on the island gave him a name before he remembered his own: Peter. Also, a fact that some could consider a detail (especially cockroaches, those always underestimated aviation): Henry could fly. Since he appeared in the magical world, Henry could fly. As hard as Rumpelstiltskin tried not to enjoy the sight of said ability, he caught himself squealing and clapping several times.

And then, his eyes fell on Emma. Poor Emma Emma Emma, whose eyes looked lost and trapped and terrified while she watched her son fly about and call himself the wrong name while barely remembering hers.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

"Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpelstiltskin."

Unlike most Dark Ones, Rumpelstiltskin gave his name to anyone willing to listen. After all, he was a businessman of sorts, and using a little name magic to make himself accessible to clients was a good marketing strategy. So right now, five days after the Curse was broken, when Emma opened her mouth and said his name three times in a row, he could hear her from a thousand miles away.

"You called, my dear," he appeared right in front of her with a flamboyant bow. She was wearing horseriding apparel, though he was sure she wasn't riding any horses that day. It was the only pant a woman could wear in the castle.

"Why the long face, my lady savior?"

"I need your help."

"Splendid! Are you willing to make a deal with me?"

"_Are you willing to make a deal with me?" – "What do you want?" – "Oh, I don't know just yet. You'll owe me a favor." – "Deal."_

"_Hi, my name is Mr. Gold." – "I remember." – "Good. I have a proposition for you, Miss Swan."_

"_If you really wanna bring her down, you're gonna need a strong ally." – "Like yourself?"_

"_Miss Swan, two people with a common goal can accomplish many things. Two people with a common enemy can accomplish more. How would you like a benefactor?"_

"Are you ok?" she navigated him towards a small coffee table.

He noticed a bottle of liqueur on top of it.

"Want some?" she offered. When he gave her an inquiring look instead of an answer, she sighed and explained: "The head honcho fairy came over to 'chastise' me for freeing you and also to find out how I broke into your cage. She gave me this... diagnosis and I... I'd like to get a second expert opinion."

"From me?"

"_From me? As I recall, you don't exactly approve of my methods." – "I approve of your results." – "And you're willing to go as far as it takes?" – "Farther." – "Now we're talking."_

"_You told me you could fix this. That's why I came to you. So that you could make sure Regina didn't win." – "Well, she hasn't yet." – "So what's your plan?" – "I know that this is emotional, but it's also not over. You must have faith, there's still time." – "Time for what?" – "For me to work a little magic."_

"_Seriously," Emma gestured with her third drink on the night they got Mary Margaret out of the prison, "I can't keep calling you Mr. Gold when we're getting drunk together. I don't know jack about you, at least give me your name. Wait, is it Jack?" – "Hahah, how about a bet: You guess that name in three tries and I'll tell you anything you want to hear about me." – "Harold... Joshua... Rumpelstiltskin."_

"Rumpelstiltskin," Emma interrupted the onslaught of memories.

"We planned and schemed and conspired," he rambled, hunched over the table, their faces close.

"To defeat Regina? Yeah, I mean at first we kept double-crossing each other, but in the end you had my back and I had yours. Do you remember now?" She leaned closer as well.

"Almost," he chirped and jumped, making her jump as well. "I heard our savior killed the Queen in a fairly... non-heroic fashion," he fondled the words in his mouth before letting them out with his fingers dancing around them in the air.

"That's what I want to talk about, actually," Emma wiped her hands on her pants and swallowed. "During the 'final battle' as you used to call it, Regina had this huge spell surrounding her, and I just walked right through it, I didn't even feel it. I was supposed to use the wand in a duel, but I couldn't get it to work, so I just... used the pointy end."

"Oh I love pointy ends," Rumpelstiltskin cheered, "How very inventive of you, Emma dear."

"Um, thanks. And then, I was able to break the dragon teeth bars. Again, the magical barrier that was supposed to be there... I was immune to it. The fairy godmother told me that most spells, especially the big ones, don't affect me because they're based on connecting to the victim's soul and its magic. But apparently there's nothing to connect to in my case."

"Oh, dearie dearie dearie. Did that ugly fairy bug tell you that you have no soul?"

"She... She said it's one of the possible explanations. What she's sure about is that there's no magic of my own in there."

"Preposterous," Rumpelstiltskin chuckled as if she said a joke. "In this world, everybody has a little magic inside them. And you were born here, Miss Emma. To – be – our – savior!" He pointed in the air and sang the words dramatically.

"And you were the one who foretold that, am I right? You _know_ these things. Please, Rumpelstiltskin."

"_Harold." – "No." – " Joshua." – "Hah, no, Miss Swan." – "Rumpelstiltskin." – "...Excuse me?" – "Just kidding, it's Henry's new theory, he thinks he finally found your fairy tale character... What?" – "I'm afraid I did have too many drinks. Look at me, playing foolish games in Granny's Diner. I should go home." – "Oh god. I got the right name, didn't I ? Didn't I ? And now you have to tell me everything because 'your agreements are always honored.' And your name is __**Rumpelstiltskin.**__ What the..." – "Miss Swan. If you really think you are ready for this conversation, let us have it somewhere else."_

"Touch my hand, dearie."

Without a second of a doubt she let her hand fall into his.

"Ah, the soul is there, it's all mushy and fluffy inside. Yet..." Rumpelstiltskin frowned.

In search for her inner magic, his hand travelled up her arm, then an inch away from her temple and then hovered above her chest. She never shied away, just watched him anxiously.

"No. No magic. No quivering la-la-lah in your veins, anywhere."

"Are you sure?" She pressed his hand against the skin above her neckline.

Touching her. Touching her there. Touching. What a scary woman.

"Yes, yes, very certain, sure as the sky is blue except when it's black or red or cloudy od partially cloudy or full of rainbows which does happen in here sometimes," he blabbered nervously. "That means you can't do any magic, but also that almost no magic can be done to you, you lucky lucky. No curses, no glamour, no barriers..."

"No true love's kiss."

"Ah, yes. No true love magic."

"I heard that that's why there's almost no divorce in here. As long as you love each other when you're getting married, the wedding kiss creates a magical bond and gives you a happily ever after."

"A lovely enchantment, I've heard. But there are more loveless marriages than you think, my lady savior, between both peasants and royals. Sometimes I count them in my head before I go to sleep," he snickered maliciously.

"Well, I've never been one for long-term relationships anyway," Emma shrugged and poured two glasses of liqueur, her disappointment clear as day. She clanked her glass against his and started drinking.

He later realized that he didn't make a deal for anything in return before answering her question.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

Rumpelstiltskin never got mail. Never.

He didn't even _have_ a mailbox.

He wasn't sure the Dark Castle had an address to begin with.

That is why the little blue bird dropped the envelope into his lap before, scared out of its little mind, it hit glass on the way out and knocked itself unconscious.

Rumpelstiltskin took his time turning the envelope in his hands, taking in the paper and the seal. It was from Snow White's castle – he'd left the place only a couple of days ago, on an early morning, so drunk he teleported into his stables by mistake. She made him drink. She made him talk. He'd spent hours trying to remember how many beans he spilled. He hated beans.

They talked about her discomfort with having servants, about the roof that caved in at his estate while he was imprisoned, about her son, about his son... Did he tell her about his son?

"_No, please, they grow up so fast. Your time together is precious, you know. That's the thing about children. Before you know it... You lose them."_

Wrong memory. But more kept coming:

"_My agreements are always honored."_

"_Just a name. But I generally find that's all one needs."_

"_I know how to recognize a desperate soul."_

"_Let's just say: Bad things happen to bad people. Observation."_

"_Time for what?" – "For me to work a little magic."_

"_Harold. Joshua. Rumpelstiltskin."_

"_But... But... There's supposed to be no grey area in fairy tales. Either you're good or evil. What are you, then? Or were you, I don't know, born evil and then reformed?" – "Evil isn't born, dearie. It's made."_

Crafty little Rumpel, you left her crumbles before she even suspected you had another identity. And then, you opened up like an oyster. Are you getting old? His thoughts taunted him. Did you tell her about her, the chipped cup, as well?

"_That reaction was about more than taking a few trinkets. You said something about how he hurt her? If someone needs help, maybe I can help." – "Look, we're done here."_

"_I'm going to make her pay..." – "What's gotten into you? First you agree to work with me and now that we're at the party, you look like you're a split hair away from crashing it!" They were in the mayor's house with the intention of slipping away unnoticed and finding her secret room. Coming to one of Regina's parties and taking Miss Swan as his plus one was the best opportunity they had at infiltrating the mansion. "You don't know what she did," he ground his teeth, "What I found out she did..." – "Whatever it is, I need you to keep a cool head now, Mr. Gold. We have to wait for the best moment. Don't you agree?" – "Yes," Rumpelstiltskin growled. _

The envelope wrinkled in his fingers. Pesky memories. What was it the Queen did to him anyway? He distracted himself with the rumpled envelope again. Haha, rumpled.

Inside was an invitation. An innn-vi-ta-tion. To a ball of all things. 'To celebrate the defeat of the Evil Queen and her Curse, blah bublah bublah, a ball dedicated to our Savior Princess, Emma White,' now where did the Swan go, was it eaten by a crocodile? 'You are cordially invited to join the festivities in the White Castle and its gardens, yada yada pa dum pam.'

Rumpelstiltskin flipped to the other side of the card, expecting some explanation. A smirking frog face would do, then he'd know it was a joke.

No. Apparently, Rumpelstiltskin was invited. Cordially even.

Another trap, perhaps? Blasted fairy bugs buzzing in Snow White's ears. They must be preparing a new cage as Rumpelstiltskin speaks (to himself). What better way to find out than an early visit! He snapped his fingers and appeared right next to Snow White.

Snow White screamed. Not because she was not decent at the moment, but because her daughter wasn't. He interrupted Emma's dress rehearsal. Blood flushed into his face and he turned away from the sight with a swoosh.

"Oh for god's sake, I'm wearing a corset and about a bajillion petticoats, it's not like I'm naked," Emma exclaimed. "Would you calm down?" she snapped at her mother.

"It's highly inappropriate!" Snow White gushed.

"I agree," Rumpelstiltskin said from where he was facing the wall, eyes covered with a hand on top of that.

"That's adorable, you two actually agree on something!"

"I would never!" Snow White showed her contempt for the man who told her how to defeat the Queen.

"I take it you were not the one to decide my invitation then? Did the daughter throw a tantrum until mommy said yes?"

"Puh-lease, don't call us that. I may be even older than her – not that I know for sure because she won't tell me her age."

"Time passes differently in our world," Snow White complained, "so it's hard to compare your years with ours."

"Excuses. But anyway... You're here about the invitation."

"Yes. Can I turn around now?"

"Sure."

"No!" Snow White yelped. "I'm still putting her dress on."

"Do you hate parties, is that it?"

"On the contrary, my dear. I love balls and dances – I especially enjoy maskerades. I'm not very used to being invited to them, though. What if it sucks all the fun out of it?"

"Do you want me to uninvite you so that you can crash the party?" Emma chuckled.

"How about a deal-"

"No deals!" Snow White interrupted them again. "Emma, please, stop making deals with him. It never ends well. He helped in the final battle so he can come to the ball, but that's it."

There was a moment of silence and then Emma took a quick breath:

"Say, Rumpelstiltskin, would you like to have my first dance?"

"Emma!"

"Apparently, they have this annoying tradition here. Whoever the party is about gets to have the first dance while everyone else stands around and stares like a creep."

"As your mother, I beg you..."

"I would've taken David if it wasn't forbidden..."

"James. His name is James."

"Right. I'm sorry. Well... I have to dance with a single man, James is my father, Henry is my son and Jiminy Cricket is an insect. And I don't really know anyone else..."

"It would be my honor, Miss Swan. I promise to be on time." With that, Rumpelstiltskin disappeared in a puff of black and gold smoke.

"He called me Miss Swan," he could hear an echo of her voice before his presence left the room completely.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

"And now, allow me one last formality before the celebrations begin. In honor of the one who saved us from eternal darkness, we shall name our castle lake: Lake Emma!" Prince James, now King, proclaimed. He threw an excited smile at his twenty-eight-year-old daughter. He tried so hard to make her happy, Emma could feel it. She was already more than thankful for the time he spent with Henry. Her son, or at least the fairy tale version of him, decided to only bond with boys, which made James his only considerable family member.

"It is time for the first dance! I give you our Savior Princess, Emma White!"

Emma took a deep breath and started towards the dance floor. To say that her dress was heavy was an understatement. Snow White had it made for her from the finest silk and brocade in various hues of silver and gold. Her corset provided only a bit of a cleavage in the halter neck that formed a nice collar that Snow White called a little villanous but Emma adored. The dress had a huge skirt with hoops and everything and she honestly doubted she could stay on her feet for more than an hour, not to mention dancing.

Just walking down the stairs without tripping was a small victory; now where the heck was Rumpelstiltskin? She looked around the hall packed with people she didn't know while more and more were waiting in the gardens. And now she was getting really nervous, the castle was suddenly very silent, the orchestra was waiting for her signal to start the waltz, her palms were sweating, she wanted to take off those stupid gloves, and where the hell was Rumpelstiltskin?!

A cold wind whistled through the castle doors, then changed into a trace of black and gold smoke and that transformed into a lush black coat with gold embroidery. The dark sorcerer was now standing right in front of Emma. With a grandiose gesture, he bowed and offered his hand for a dance.

"You sure know how to make your entrance," she smirked while everyone else gasped. Her fingers rested on his and the music began.

"I came one minute late, forgive me if you were uncomfortable," Rumpelstiltskin muttered, leading her across the dance floor in elegant circles. "Are you... What are you counting?"

"Two, three, what? Hold that thought, at least until the rest starts dancing."

Rumpelstiltskin laughed out, and then again, clearly finding her nervosity hilarious. Emma could feel her skin going red.

"My apologies," he chuckled, wheezing but never losing the waltz rhythm, "but you are most certainly the strangest hero these lands have ever seen."

"Yeah, well," she looked around, hoping that her embarrassment wasn't that visible, "I've always been more like you than them."

Rumpelstiltskin missed a step. Fortunately, Snow White and James had just joined the dance and many pairs followed their example.

"You clean up nice, by the way," Emma said.

"Pardon?"

"I love the coat. And this... old-timey tie or whatever it is, it looks really cute on you. Also," she chuckled, "just out of curiosity, do you ever not wear leather pants in this world?"

"Oh. Eeh, may I say that you look dashing yourself."

"_My my, and here I thought I was used to the sight of you in suits," she made a short purring noise._

"_Really? Over a dress suit?"Mr. Gold tried to hide how flattered he felt. _

_When they arrived to Regina's party and Miss Swan took off her coat, he finally found out what she scoured the whole town with Mary Margaret for: a long black gown with no cleavage but a low-cut back._

"_You look gorgeous, Miss Swan," he told her._

"_Well this is supposed to be our first date, I want to make a good impression," she smiled, referring to their cover story. And she played her role perfectly. They didn't exactly flirt; but she did touch his arm whenever she wanted his attention, and her eyes landed on his very often over the night, and she whispered into his ear intimately when the music was loud. They danced three times before they split in order to find Regina's secret chamber; during every dance, got to touch Emma's bare back and only then did he appreciate what kind of a killer dress she was wearing._

"Are you remembering something?" Emma brought him back to the White Castle.

"Yes," he admitted. "Our first date, as you called it."

"Oh! How much do you remember?" This seemed important for her.

"Your gown... And our dancing," Rumpelstiltskin's fingers inched a little higher on her back, over the edge of the corset, finding her skin. She raised an eyebrow, but that was all. He wondered how much he would have to push in order to scare her away. But she was a scary woman herself, wasn't she, and one never knew with scary women. A scary savior. What an intriguing concept.

"Is that all? You discovered something that day, before you invited me to the party."

He frowned in frustration. He hated not knowing, he was used to knowing everything.

The tune came to an end and since her second dance belonged to her father, Rumpelstiltskin stepped to the side and watched her intensely. Remember. Remember. Remember.

"_Hi, my name is Mr. Gold." – "I remember." – "Good."_

"_When did you see her last?" – "Last night; that's how I got this." – "That's an ugly blow, have you been to the doctor?" – "I believe I'm alright, thank you." – "No nausea? It could be a concussion..." Miss Swan went to the freezer and pulled out an ice pack. "Now let me take a look."_

"_I like your confidence. Charming." – "Somehow I suspect there is more to you than a simple pawnbroker." – "I like you, Miss Swan. You're not afraid of me."_

"_Emma, how lovely to see you. I'm flattered you'd take time off your busy schedule for me."_

"_What's your price?" – "Forgiveness." – "How about tolerance?" – "Well, that's a start."_

"_I'm still not interested." – "One can wish."_

"_It appears I've been robbed." – "Funny how that keeps happening to you." – "Yeah, well," he lowered his gun first, "I'm a difficult man to love."_

"_Pastrami. You want a half? I still owe you that favor." – "When the day comes that I make my request, it'll be for more than half a sandwich." – "You've got a talent for making things sound much creepier than they are, you know that?" _

_The mayor marched in like a general and ordered her to go for an ice cream with Henry shile she had a word with the prisoner. Miss Swan didn't make a step until she made sure that Mr. Gold was okay with her leaving. "Bring me back a cone," he gave her a small smile._

"_Fear not, Miss Swan. Regina may be powerful, but something tells me you're more powerful than you know."_

"_I could've run and left her there," she breathed, finally realizing what kind of a creature she was dealing with. "Not the type," he tsked self-assuredly. She caught him by surprise when she cut the distance between them so that their noses were almost touching. "You know __**nothing**__ about me. You have no idea what type I am, what I'm capable of, how I think. For example, what am I going to do right now, Mr. Gold?" she asked him threateningly. Before he was able to come up with an answer, she eliminated the inch of space between their mouths and kissed, more like nipped his lips. It was over before he realized it was happening. "Now... Find another sucker."_

He came to when she was in the middle of her third dance. Henry didn't look thrilled about this sonhood obligation. He ran off before the song was over.

"But I don't _want_ to grow up!" he screamed out.

Rumpelstiltskin looked at the boy's back, really looked, and he instantly knew his most probable future.

Emma looked at the sorcerer with question marks in her eyes. But she must've seen something that changed her mind for she didn't ask Rumpelstiltskin anything. And he was glad for it, because delivering the news that her son was going to run away from home would be quite a party pooper. Peter. Henry sure knew how to pick a name with potential.

"Let me show you your lake," he offered her an arm to hook hers in so that she wouldn't have to leave the dance floor alone with everyone staring. His presence made people look away and Emma seemed to like it.

"Thanks," she sighed and leaned into him a little.

"_About time, the mayor will be here any minute," Mr. Gold welcomed Miss Swan and Miss Blanchard back at the sheriff's station. _

"_Emma's bleeding..."_

"_Let's get you in your cell first."_

"_What happened?" Mr. Gold asked. _

_Miss Swan's eybrow was busted from someone's fist. He hated violence on women. It made him sick. (Sick of himself, mostly.)_

"_Mad Hatter happened."_

"_Excuse me?" Could she be serious? But even if she knew and believed... The hatter couldn't escape his mansion! _

"_Oh, it was just some freak who got a drop on us. There's a first aid kit in one of these drawers..."_

"_Let me."_

"_I can do it myself, it's just a..."_

"_Please, allow me."_

"_Ok, fine."_

"_..."_

"_Tell me you're really trying to help Mary Margaret. Tell me I can trust you."_

"_I cannot tell you that, Miss Swan," but he really wanted to. "But maybe soon."_

"_What does that mean?" she sighed._

They arrived to the lake.

"Here it is. Lake Emma."

"That sounds so awkward. I wanted to call it Swan Lake, but Mary Margaret hates that name, says it's not real. Snow White. I mean, Snow. I'm supposed to call her just Snow. Or Mother, of course."

"And you are supposed to become Emma White overnight, am I right?" he rhymed a little. She chuckled.

"Come to think of it, you've been unusually normal tonight. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I've been merely trying not to cause you any embarrassment."

"Oh, thank you so much. You know, it's funny, I used to do crazy things to get people's attention when I was younger. Now it terrifies me. _Savior Princess_. With a fricking Emma Lake."

"Swan Lake," Rumpelstiltskin corrected her and gestured to the body of water, his magic changing a dozen of fish into beautiful swans. Emma gasped and laughed.

"Amazing! Thanks, Rumpels!"

"_I want you to come as my plus one to the mayor's party tonight. You can trust me now, Miss Swan." – "I can? Why? Something changed," she guessed it rightaway. "Yes... Let's just say that the injustice I've just uncovered was the very last drop. I owe that monstrous woman a complete, devastating, humbling blow."_

"_What's gotten into you? First you agree to work with me and now that we're at the party, you look like you're a split hair away from crashing it!" – "You don't know what she did... What I found out she did..." – "Whatever it is, I need you to keep a cool head now, Mr. Gold." She gave his upper arm a gentle squeeze, eyes so intensely on his he thought she was trying to hypnotize him. "We have to wait for the best moment. Don't you agree?" He looked around and found Regina watching them. "Yes," Rumpelstiltskin growled while smiling for show, and he kissed Emma's hand._

"_Rumpels- -" her voice broke, giving way for a moan._

What?!

As soon as he could, Rumpelstiltskin excused himself and fled the castle.


	2. A Strange Villain

After the ball, he hadn't seen his lady savior for several weeks.

He waged war with those pesky memories that confused him and tricked him and played that one moan to his ears over and over. If spinning gold helped him forget, what should he do if he wants to remember? He spun the wheel backwards for three days straight and almost broke the damn thing.

He took walks outside the Dark Castle, and while admiring the freedom of the wild forest, he regained much of the twenty-seven years of his Storybrook life before Emma arrived. The wolves and the owls brought it all back: His wealth and the pawnshop and his tenants, his house and his collection and the loneliness. Queen Regina promised him a happy ending, she promised it to all dark beings, but she delivered it to no one, not even herself.

And yet, he remembered nothing about the last months of the Curse, when Emma walked the streets of the town he practically owned. Perhaps he needed the princess around in order to remember. Or perhaps he was pushing those memories away, perhaps he was afraid of them. Afraid? Afraid. Coward. Yes, as _she_ said, he was a coward after all, a coward who was petrified by intimacy. Coward - oh, how he hated the word. He'd have had found a spell to wipe it out of their language had it not been such a useful tool in many of his dealings.

„_Rumpels- -"_

He ran back to his castle, suddenly urgent on finding his chipped cup. He was faithful to the cup. He would never betray the cup, would he? Lying together was no small thing in this world. It had the potential to be one of the strongest magical bonding ceremonies in the world, so people were very careful to do it outside of marriage. It was just too dangerous. And if that erotic snippet of sound really meant what he thought it meant... Then what? What was he to do? Smash his new set of china against the wall, drink an alcoholic potion and go to bed, that's what he's going to do.

Three weeks in, Rumpelstiltskin received another note from another panicking blue bird. This one went mental in his room before he found his way out, littering on everything in the process. The dark sorcerer found it alarming that he didn't find it funny. The best part of life was laughing at others' misfortune, after all!

'Watch your back, the fairies are after you,' the note said. It was written in a sad hand.

Rumpelstiltskin licked the paper and he instantly knew what happened. Soon after the ball, Henry fled his home, leaving a letter in which he begged not to be looked for, at least for a year or two. (Did he know what Rumpelstiltskin knew? Did the son know that he was never ever coming back? That after finding his island and his friends, they would fall through a portal and inadvertently get stuck in one of the parallel worlds, Neverland?) The fairy council probably told the White family that becoming Peter Pan was the boy's destiny and refused to intervene.

Then why did the mother not call him? She was a fighter, she was _the_ fighter! She knew Rumpelstiltskin could always locate the boy. Was his rude escape from her party enough reason to hate him? Then why did he taste only surrender in her message?

On another note, eww, ink. He almost ate the whole card trying to figure out her feelings. He spat on the floor repeatedly, trying to get the taste off his tongue like a dog that was given vinegar. The blue bird laughed at his misfortune. See? That's the way life works.

And then, another week later, he could hear Emma's voice:

"Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpels..."

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

"Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpels..."

She didn't even get to finish the invocation – he was already standing there.

"Hi," she said. She was wearing her old clothes: a pair of jeans, a lady's shirt and a red leather jacket, as if she stopped caring about the castle etiquette at some point.

"Why, such a serious greeting. I suggest we make up our own. From now on, I shall be saying: Your Highness; Your Princessness; Yooour Saviorship. And you could reply: If it isn't Rumpelstiltskin, my favorite future court magician..."

She didn't reply, just nodded his chatter away.

"You look tired, my dear," his voice went uncharacteristically deep and concerned.

"You've got some dark circles under your eyes as well," she noticed. Throwing her arm up and then letting it fall, she explained: "Henry ran away."

"I see," he bowed his head in sympathy.

"Shut up, you knew. I know you knew," she sighed.

"Then why didn't you ask for my help?" he inquired quietly, not even trying for a flippant delivery.

"Because he was unhappy here," she sighed again. "He didn't like it here, and what right do I have to stop him when running away is exactly what I did to him."

"But you don't like it here, either."

She didn't comment on that, though her silence confirmed his observation more than enough.

"I have a job for us," she changed the topic.

"You have a what for whom?" this time, he overplayed his confusion comedically.

"It's got something to do with the fairies. People with only their Storybrook memory are cropping up and the fairies refuse to do anything about it. I spoke to the kings and queens' council behind their back and they agreed to support you against the fairies if you help me solve this problem."

"And why should that convince me?" his grimacing, mocking side showed up.

Emma looked him up and down.

"Because if you're anything like the Mr. Gold I knew, you like challenging authority, and you especially enjoy discovering the good guys' dirty little secrets. You're the only one around who's not a coward and you're the only one smart and strong enough to actually make a difference. And... You hate nuns," she smirked.

"But what if you're a part of the fairy bugs' plan to trap me again, Emma dear?"

"Why would I set you free and then put you in the cage again?" she exclaimed, offended.

"To right your wrongs. I have been making deals over the past weeks, you know," he leered at her.

"Oh I forgot," she seethed, "we're not friends in this world, are we. We're gonna have to go through all our trust issues and all our bullshit again. Seriously...!"

"Friends?" he wrapped his tongue around the word. "Friends... What kind of a friend was I, Miss Emma?"

Battling her anger, she contemplated his question.

"Kept me on my toes, you did. And you kept your distance. But then, at one point, you told me that I could trust you and from then on, I could put a knife in your hand and turn my back to you without feeling nervous. Without your help, I would've never broken the Curse."

"Was there anything... more-ish?" he treaded carefully.

"Why, did you remember something? What we promised each other, the night after Regina's party, do you remember now?" she asked eagerly.

"Sorry, dearie, the answer is no. I do remember a lot now, but not from the last year. I believe I'll turn around if you call me Mr. Gold now," he wiggled his eybrows at her, trying to lighten her mood.

"Well great, you're the only one I started calling your real name before the Curse was broken," Emma scoffed sarcastically.

„_Rumpels- -"_

What was this mysterious memory about if not about what he thought it was? A promise? What was the moan, then? Someone give him a wheel to spin backwards!

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

"Hey, Jiminy," Emma entered the castle's homeless shelter, now with a special section for the wrong-memoried.

"Hello, Princess Emma. No progress so far," Jiminy Cricket reported. "I have a new idea, though: I was hoping, maybe if they witnessed an act of magic, the surprise would jumpstart some memories."

"Jiminy, they've been talking to a cricket for days now. That is magic."

"Oh! You're completely right. That must be why they've been looking at me so funny."

"And what about you? Still no memories from your career as a therapist?"

"Of course not. I've always been Jiminy, Jiminy Cricket!" the little fella chirped.

"Yet I remember you as a young man, flesh and bone," Rumpelstiltskin entered the room.

"So you did bring him," the cricket almost growled. It was the first time Emma heard hostility in his voice. "Excuse me, Princess Savior, I refuse to be in the same room with this monster." Jiminy hopped out of the window.

"You guys have history?" Emma raised an eyebrow.

"A deal that went wrong," Rumpelstiltskin admitted.

"Don't all of them go wrong with you?"

"Not as far as _I'm_ concerned," his head wiggled with a grin. "But this one..." His smile went sour. "I gave him a potion for his gruesome parents but they slipped it to this lovely couple who had a child they loved with all their heart," Rumpelstiltskin twisted his hands as if he needed a cane to play with. "The whole thing was rather disappointing."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Emma winced. "So, what do you think caused this?"

"I don't need to read these people to make a good guess," the dark sorcerer looked around. "You could've told me they were all peasants with no magical life stories."

"I didn't realize that was the connection. So what if they're peasants? Most of the kingdom consists of peasants."

"Yes, but some have great fates ahead of them, these don't," Rumpelstiltskin explained. He touched one man's forehead and said: "Ah, as I thought, an aimless backspell."

"What does that mean?"

"Did you use to be a good schoolgirl, Miss Emma? Or were you bad?"

She sighed but indulged him: "Mostly bad because the teachers sucked."

Rumpelstiltskin imagined a young defiant Emma and giggled. "Why don't you sit tight and let me tell you how this world works then. It'll be our Magical Physics 101," he decorated his words with flamboyant hand gestures.

Emma shook her head and yet played with him – she sat on a table and listened.

"Once upon a time," he began with great humor, as if the words themselves were a joke, "there was magic! But aaall magic ~ came with a price. You can never create _something_ out of _nothing_," he illustrated each sentence with his voice and body language. "If you do, the magic will take its toll somewhere else. It's basic alchemy. Now magic is easy to use for evil: Do someone harm, keep the good for yourself and tadaah! But the fairies, the fairies do good to others without harming themselves. Do you see why that can't work, dearie?"

"Because you can't do good magic without calling on some bad magic. So what happens if faries whip out a happy ending? Out of nothing?"

"Aimless backspells," Rumpelstiltskin pointed to the people in the shelter and announced their misfortune as if it was tonight's greatest show. "The fairy bugs only protect a certain number of people in this world. Princesses and princes, mostly, but sometimes a shepherd or the children of a woodsman, too. The rest is up for taking," his elegant arms signalled around the room again.

"Wait, are you telling me that every time a fairy saves a queen's dying child...?"

"A child of one of these people dies, yes."

Emma jumped down from her seat. "How the **fuck** do they even dare call themselves the good guys?" she raised her voice.

"They do not cast the backspells personally, it just happens," Rumpelstiltskin smiled, somewhat happy that this upset her, "Some of them don't even know that aimless backspells exist. It's all very much outrageous, isn't it?"

"Hell yeah it is! You're a thousand times better than they are! You take responsibility for the magic you do, even when everyone hates you for it! You do the bad to the same person you do good to – with their consent!"

"Now now, dearie, I'm not exactly the hero of the people..."

"Oh shut up," she snapped at him angrily and helplessly. She took several deep breaths, kicked at a chair and finally leaned against a wall.

"I think I hate this world," she whispered what she'd been afraid to express since she broke the Curse.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what to do. He stood still, three feet away from her, hands wringing, eyes jumping from her to everywhere else.

"Miss Emma..."

"Don't you, too?" she looked at him, the moment of weakness making her eyes glassy.

"I try to find pleasure in my work," his smile fell as soon as he put it on. "But yes. I, uh... I – it was me who created the Curse," the words slipped out before he could stop them. Oh no, no, he shouldn't have said that. Bad Rumpelstiltskin. "I was at a very dark place and I... I admit I was going through a mad scientist phase," he tried to explain himself before she started hating him, too. "I was determined to find a way to another world by using the magic of happy endings and it didn't really work until I became able to bottle Love but by then I had passed the project to someone else..."

"I know," she breathed.

"You... know?"

"You told me before," she shocked him. "So," she pushed away from the wall, "what is with these guys? Can you tell from the aimless backspell what the original spell was?"

"It... It was a memory spell," Rumpelstiltskin needed a second to jump back into her investigative mode. "From the fact that they only remember Storybrook, I suggest the original magic was done to eliminate any Storybrook memories. I don't know the reason, but-"

"Come with me," she suddenly barked, grabbed his hand and ran out of the shelter. She took him through the kitchen to the castle's main building, up some stairs, through several corridors.

The whole hand-holding thing was quite unnecessary, but he didn't protest. Emma Emma, you scary woman whose eyes linger on his and whose touches he can feel even hours after you say goodbye. And most dangerously, you who doesn't think him a coward, who looks at that shrivelled up ugly imp and sees a strong smart man. This will get you eaten, dearest Emma, yes, maybe if he eats you he'll truly become that man!

That's horrible, Rumpelstiltskin. How dare you even think that? Shame on you, you disgusting creature, you beast!

They arrived into the queen's chambers.

"Touch her," she pointed at the baffled queen.

"Excuse me?" Rumpelstiltskin and Snow White excaimed at the same time, then exchanged an irritated look when they agreed on something again.

"A while ago," Emma turned to Snow White, "I told you about your life as Mary Margaret. When I got to the part where David was cheating on his wife with you, you begged me to stop. You were very disturbed and the next day, you told me you had a bad dream about it. Then, you never mentioned it again. Do you remember any of this?"

"Um, no... I'm sorry, Emma..."

"Touch her," Emma told him again.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded and approached the queen. She shied away.

"Just give him your hand, please," Emma sounded just as annoyed as Rumpelstiltskin felt. He made the contact as short as possible, dropping her hand the moment he touched it.

"Yes, she's been affected by a memory spell very recently."

"Why is it so important for the fairies to suppress their Storybrook memories?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked deep into Snow White's eyes.

"Because they are our heroes. They will be in the books, they are the Chosen Ones. They have to be kept pure, untainted by the grime of the other world, in order to follow their great destinies. As long as we have their grand stories with happy endings and them as role models, there shall be hope in this world."

"That's such a load of bullshit," Emma remarked.

"Emma, darling, please, language," Snow White looked like she'd asked her for the hundredth time.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

"Emma dearest, I know you don't feel like a princess, but you are, in fact, a princess. We don't have to sneak into the castle treasury, the guards will gladly open the door for you," Rumpelstiltskin whispered.

"I know and I'm counting on it. I just don't want the king and queen to know before I have the wand safe in my pocket. Do you know how fast information spreads in this castle? Our guards are terrible gossips."

"And why do I have to join your little spy game? I told you I can't enter the treasury because of the protection barrier."

"But you can hide me before I get there," she whispered urgently and dragged him into a corner. "Quickly, make us invisible," she hissed, pressing against a wall and pulling the lapels of his tail coat towards her.

Hearing the approaching footsteps of castle guards, he cast a concealment cloak over the Savior Princess and himself.

He could feel her breath waft over his cheek.

This was getting ridiculous. Was she actually seeking out his proximity? How unfair! How cruel! He did _not_ just think about her convenient no-true-love-kissing clause.

The guards left but Emma's hands were still on his tail coat.

"Fancy. Is that real gator skin?" she smoothed her hands down the material.

"Y-yes," he jumped away from her.

"Sorry," she smirked unapologetically.

"I do not know if the other me was used to your games of-"

"Nah, Mr. Gold was about as skittish as you are now," she admitted right away. "But I did love to push his buttons," she smiled.

Getting their hands on the wand that slew the Evil Queen was quite uneventful. The minute they found themselves in the privacy of a deserted hallway, Emma pushed said wand into Rumpelstiltskin's hands without ceremony or hesitation.

"Can you use it to fix their memory?"

"I'm confident that I am, it used to be mine after all."

He recognized the engraving. It was the wand he claimed after killing a fairy godmother. What sort of journey took it from his fingers and placed it between the ribs of Queen Regina?

"_Got it?" Emma murmured when she and Mr. Gold reunited after several minutes at Regina's party._

"_Yes. How did you enjoy your chat with the mayor?"_

"_She's been grilling for what felt like hours. She was on to me the second I started sneaking around the house."_

"_Then I guess it was a genius plan to make you the red herring, my dear."_

"_I tip my hat, Mr. Gold. Also, you're a far better ninja than I pegged you for. But how come she had this superweapon of yours in the first place?"_

"_She bought it from me the very second day of the Curse, before I got all my memories back. I had enough sense not to sell her my dagger, but as for the wand, I let it slip away."_

"_What dagger? And wait, did you just say wand? My secret weapon to defeat her is a __**wand**__?"_

_Evading half of her questions, Mr. Gold contemplated her for a while._

"_You worry me, Miss Swan," he sighed. _

" _What? Why?"_

"_The world we come from is a magical one, my dear. And the more I know you the more I worry that you're going to be quite miserable there."_

"_Why do you think so?"_

"_Because deep down, you'll always be a disbeliever."_

_That was just the way she grew up. Twenty-eight years was too long, she got disappointed too many times, broken beyond the point of inconspicuous repair, taught not to believe in fairy tales, proven that hope only brings more opportunity for pain. What magical form would she take in their world? Because as far as his world's customs went, she would be great villain material. Whatever her magical powers would be, Mr. Gold was sure it would set her apart from everyone else, making her the only stranger again, making her completely alone. _

_He knew the feeling and he didn't want it for her._

Rumpelstiltskin inspected the wand. The tip and the side all the way to the handle were darkened from Regina's blood. He imagined the blood dripping down from the stab wound and licking his lady savior's fingers.

"I thought it foolish of them to leave the wand with humans, but I can see now why the fairies didn't even try to repossess it," he spoke.

"Yeah, it's the blood. They said they wouldn't touch it, that it's tainted. Is it?"

"Not any more than it was before," Rumpelstiltskin sneered.

"So, what else can we do except fix the people we've found? Can we prevent more spells and backspells from happening? We need to get to the root of the problem here. How about forcing the 'Chosen Ones' to face their Storybrook lives in some sort of a therapy session? As long as they've dealt with it, there's no reason for wiping it out of their memories, right?"

"Perhaps, but the fairies will not like it."

"Screw the fairies," Emma scoffed and Rumpelstiltskin smiled in response. An anti-fairy allience was forming right in the heart of White Castle. How intriguing. How lovely.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

Gathering White Kingdom's Favored Ones (as Emma started calling them instead of Chosen Ones) took only a few waves of the wand in Rumpelstiltskin's monstrous yet genteel fingers. The 'therapy' was quite successful, he'd dare say.

"I cannot believe you would think me capable of killing your wife..."

"I was a weak man, my love, and for a moment I got confused by my own memory-"

"Even for a second, how could you suspect me?"

Well, mostly successful. After a long discussion with the Savior Princess, the royal couple made peace and decided to recommend the 'therapy' to other kingdoms. Emma was reprimanded for not consulting her plan with them but otherwise thanked. Rumpelstiltskin's help would not be forgotten, King James said awkwardly.

And then, just when it seemed that they had spent all the surprises for the day, Emma came up with another one.

"Do you want it?" she suggested that Rumpelstiltskin keeps the wand.

Snow White and James held their breaths.

"What? What are you saying?" the Dark One was stunned.

"Well I do still owe you that favor," she quipped.

"That small favor? This wand can raze citites to the ground!"

"So now you'll owe me instead."

Rumpelstiltskin huffed and puffed. Unbelievable. Insane, yes, she was most certainly insane. Talking-to-cockroaches level of insane. Embarrassed in front of their audience, he grabbed her – yes, this time it was him taking her hand – and took her somewhere isolated. The cellar, his magic took them to the wine cellar. Damp and cold and sleazy in places, how perfect for his intention of showing her his true colors.

"What game is this?! I demand that you tell me this instant, dearie, before I show you who exactly you're playing with," he growled into her face.

She didn't back off. He could shake her. Sink his nails into her shoulders. Throw her against the wall. Trap her hair in a fist and tug. Bite her. Ravish her.

He wouldn't touch her.

"There's no game," she told him honestly.

"Liar," he hissed. "There are intentions behind your intentions and you're not telling me about any of the two. I will look – What are you smiling about?!"

"You smell like spices, Rumpelstiltskin."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Everybody's breath in this world smells like something, it's so perfect it disturbs me," Emma narrated as if she just wasn't threatened by the most powerful being in the kingdom. "Snow White smells like mountain flowers, that's why mountain bluebirds follow her around. It must have something to do with soul magic because I don't have it. Why do you smell like spices, Rumpelstiltskin?"

He wouldn't touch her.

He stepped away from her and she stepped forward.

"It's star anise and cloves and..." She gave him that small affectionate smile again, the one that scared him the most: "Cinnamon."

"_There's still that cinnamon dessert in the fridge..." – "I know exactly what I want for dessert," she pulled him close by his tie and kissed him._

„_Rumpels- -"_

This time, he got a fragment of a visual with that moan.

"Your eyes did that glazy thing again. Do you remember now?" she angled her head, investigating his face from up close.

"We... We..." Rumpelstiltskin's blush said it all.

"Yeah, I know. And after that...?"

He shook his head, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Come on, remember..." she cupped his face with a soft, soft hand and slid her thumb down the unnatural skin of his cheek. How curious that his heart jumped right then when she was so different from...

The chipped cup.

Rumpelstiltskin tore away from her as if she burnt. He wouldn't touch her.

"Sorry, ah, my lady savior must forgive me but I," he gulped but the shakiness in his voice wasn't leaving, "I forgot to count the spiders under my bed this morning, it is imperative that I do so right now, so if you excuse me, Emma-Emma-Emma, pardon, please."

But it was too late. No matter how quickly he escaped to the refuge of his castle, the memories kept coming.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

_After they left Regina's party, they changed into more comfortable clothes and had dinner at Mr. Gold's place. Keeping the appearance of a date, Mr. Gold wined and dined her only like the owner of a French restaurant would. _

"_So basically, we'll have nothing to do until tomorrow night. Once the fullmoon comes out, we place the crystals and wait for her next move."_

"_Yes, some patience will be required. Hopefully that will be the hardest part. Now, would you care for a dessert? It's with cinnamon."_

"_You prepared a dessert for me? And cinnamon...?"_

"_It is our first date, I wanted to make a good impression," he returned her joke. _

_He got up and with one free hand slowly collected their dishes. This time, instead of offering help and being politely refused like with previous courses, Miss Swan stayed put and observed him. Turned in her chair to stalk his movements in the kitchen, she made him feel the weight of her eyes sliding down his shoulders and back. He was wearing one of his most comfortable suits but a suit nevertheless, color-coordinated of course, and she seemed to appreciate the way it shaped his figure._

"_Miss Swan, forgive me for the rather rude inquiry, but would you happen to be drunk?"_

"_No," she answered shortly, knowing exactly why he asked._

"_Shame," he murmured, "me neither."_

_Emma took that as a cue to get up and sit on the table, facing him._

"_You and I, we don't need to be drunk, Mr. Gold."_

"_We don't?"_

"_No."_

"_And why is that?"_

"_Because we know who we are. That's the trick. We're not knights in shining armor or maidens in white nightgowns. We're not trolls or evil warlocks either. We're in that grey area that shouldn't be in fairy tales. I don't know how you got there considering that you're from that world, but I know that you're there with me."_

_During her speech, Mr. Gold slowly approached her. Though grim and rather cruel, her monologue touched him immensely. That sense of understanding and connection under a special category – he hoped it would translate to the next world as well._

"_There's still that cinnamon dessert in the fridge," he offered her a way out. _

"_I know exactly what I want for dessert," she pulled him close by his tie and kissed him._

_A little groan escaped him at the feeling of her lips against his. It had been so long. A grunt followed when she pulled him closer, positioning him between her knees and letting their bodies press against each other. Sitting on the dining table, she had a bit of a height advantage and she used it for dominancy in her kisses, which was very welcome by him. Another sound of his appreciation came when his fingers found their way into her beautiful hair, and yet more was waiting for the moment he squeezed her hip and discovered bare skin under the hem of her shirt or when her tongue touched his lips, opening his mouth for a deeper kiss._

_She was a great kisser. So was he. They spent good ten minutes just making out before their hands got the idea of undressing each other. And even then they only managed to slide off his jacket before they focused on the battle of their tongues again. _

_She felt wonderful in his arms, so soft and pliant, so warm and passionate, he couldn't help but tear away and drop a chain of kisses down her throat. All she answered with was a very nice sigh but he still forced himself to remember who she was and what they were doing._

"_Are you sure about this?" he stopped and asked her._

"_Oh yes please," she panted, hands spanning over his shirt hungrily. _

_Could she possibly want him this badly? She wasn't playing with him, was she? Because if she stopped mid-act only to laugh at him, his pride would never survive it._

"_I was thinking," she murmured while kissing below his ear, making him shiver, "that red couch over there?"_

"_Yes, you admired it repeatedly since you've come here..."_

"_Umm-hmm, and I'd love to admire it up close," she purred into his ear. _

_That would be perfect, actually. His bedroom was too far down the hall and he was worried that his pronounced limp would ruin the mood completely before they got there._

"_As my lady wishes," he pulled away, reached for his cane and offered her a hand which she took while hopping off the table. Like an impatient teenager, she nipped at his lips all the way to the couch._

_What was happening? Mr. Gold couldn't believe it. Did he seduce her? Did she seduce him? This could not be Rumpelstiltskin and the daughter savior, this was not how history was made in his world. This must be an Earth thing. Sex without love? The touches sure felt too tender for that. What was this?_

"_Wait, hang on," she jumped on the couch first and started undoing her pants. "Let's get the most unsexy moment over with. Skinny jeans are a nightmare to take off..."_

_Mr. Gold chuckled at her struggle with the article: "Then why wear them?"_

"_Why, they do justice to my legs," she smirked once the jeans were off, scissoring her legs in the air playfully. _

"_And what beautiful appendages they are," he caught one and kissed up her smooth calf, over the inside of her knee and higher up her thigh._

"_Wait," she stopped him, hand going to the buttons of his shirt. "Take it off. I don't believe in clothed sex anymore. Everything's coming off at some point," she warned him._

_He got on one knee in front of her and unbuttoned his shirt. In response, she took hers off as well, revealing an adorable peach-colored bra that cupped her breasts so fittingly he envied the thing. At his hungry look, she bent down and kissed him again, golden hair falling forward and stopping at his cheeks softly, while her deft fingers rolled up his undershirt. His hands brushed down her sides, over the smooth stomach that once birthed a child, and nestled on her inner thighs, knuckles caressing her there to communicate his intent. _

_She took the cue and laid back, biting her lip in anticipation._

_He was rather insecure about his body, a body that had been going on fifty for twenty-eight years in Storybrook and two or three generations before that in the other world. He wanted to make sure Miss Swan received her share of pleasure, so he put his best effort into kissing up her inner thighs, disposing of her underwear without relinquishing the fire in her eyes, and finally, diving between those beautiful legs. _

_She undulated beneath his tongue, spine arching with tension repeatedly interchanged with relief._

"_Ohhh yes!" she climaxed. _

_Smiling like a cat that just ate the canary, she pulled him up into her embrace and kissed around and over his ear. She showed no hesitation, no guilt, no shame about being with him this way. On the contrary: "I've got condoms in my wallet," she whispered suggestively as her fingers conquered his belt buckle. _

_This was going to happen. _

_She reached for her wallet, he took off his pants. She pulled out said protection, he sat on the couch and admired how comfortable she was with her physicality. With her skin so smooth and sensitive, her hair must've tickled her wherever it cascaded down her body. She took her bra off and revealed gorgeous breats just big enough for his palms. He must've been staring at her like a lovestruck puppy at that moment because she chuckled and straddled him with a cunning smile. He felt like kissing her all over and she looked like she would be up for it. _

_Oh how she enjoyed physical intimacy, how unafraid she was to ask for pleasure and give it in return. Clumsy in formal relationships and at his mercy in questions of power and information, she was a queen of bliss in bed, expert and in full control. She was his polar opposite. And yet so similar._

_He gave her one of those looks again, somehow inspiring her to cup his face gently and grant him a soul-deep kiss, with their naked bodies touching and brushing and feeling so very good together. His hands roamed all over her back, up her sides and then coyly towards her bossom where they seemed unworthy of touching such beauty. All the while her hands caressed his chest and pressed his head closer whenever she wanted to intensify their kiss._

"_Tell me when you're ready," she whispered hotly into his ear, "'cause I can't wait to have you inside me."_

"_Ready," the response came right away, strangled with heavy breathing._

_It wasn't rushed, it wasn't a one night stand caused by a short-circuited sense of self. It was slow and well thought out and absolutely deliberate. They could've conversed and joked during the act just to prove this but they chose to communicate with their eyes mostly._

_Protection was ensured. His body entered hers. It had been too long, too long. _

_He engraved the beauty of her chest rising and falling into his brain as accompanied by the symphony of sounds she made whenever she found a new angle._

"_Touch me," she moaned and guided his hands to her breasts, squeezing just like she liked it. Her fingers furled in the hair at the back of his neck, giving a pleasured squeeze to tell him when he did something well. _

_At one point, she grabbed the couch behind him and like this they found the perfect position for their finish. The intense thrust whenever she pulled herself closer by her arms was too much to handle for both of them, though not at the same time, but still. _

_Spent for the moment, they collapsed on the red couch. _

_The second his euphoria wore off and cleared his brain, a feeling of dread replaced it when he imagined her putting her clothes on, making him swear he'd never mention the night again and leaving his side forever. _

"_Don't go just yet, stay a while," he asked her as soon as his breathing allowed him._

"_You kidding? I'm staying for round two," she smiled. _

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

**Author's Note**: Alright, there are quite a few issues these two have yet to go through, so let's make this a three-shot! It may take a while, though. Fingers crossed for some inspiration from the season 1 finale!

**From Author's Workshop**: What I ended up cutting out was a spell that Snow White's father had the fairies cast upon his kingdom – a spell that changed every curse word into a beautiful colorful bubble. Discovering that form of censorship would've been Emma's introduction to her culture shock. In written form, the bubbles looked like this: °o °o , which was integrated into the passage divisions ^_^.

Also, the "sex is a magical thing" explanation suggests that in Fairy Tale Land, rape is not so common because of the danger it poses for the rapist.

Some of you may argue that OUAT's Fairy Tale Land is much more gritty and realistic than I portray, but I did see some limitations in there. You're more than welcome to write your opinions in the comments!

Angie


	3. A Strange Union

He should build a bird door. And a mail box. So much mail! He could almost swim in it now that he got his third note. Well, almost. He could definitely juggle them.

This one was another invitation to another White Castle ball. A huge party girl, that Snow White. There are winter celebrations at her castle every year, but this year, to make her daughter feel more at home, Snow White decided to call it Christmas. Henry promised to attend as well. Rumpelstiltskin had to chew up the envelope in order to find out that information. He didn't mind except for the wax seal.

He wasn't sure he was ready to see his lady savior yet. The last memory he recovered was so embarrassing; so intimate; so...

If he went, what would he say? What would he _wear_? Where would he look? Could he possibly watch her breathe in and out without imagining her naked on top of him, breasts falling and rising as she –

Right. Bad direction. Wrong door. Tigers there.

There was really no way he could decline the invitation, was there. He tried to picture the world in which she called and he didn't come and he was shocked to discover how impossible it was. How did that happen? Sorceress!

Let her have her guest in all his Rumpliness, then. He would come in a brand new dress coat and cravat made from dragon wing skin and hedgehog spikes, he would mix all the radish and mint sauce into the punchbowl, he would talk predominantly to her armpit, and _then_ he would get weird. He didn't care.

(He did spend a good hour trying to do something decent with his hair, though. But there was a reason he let it have a life of its own up to now.)

Sadly, his plans were never carried all the way through.

"There you are!" she found him at the buffet table a minute after he materialized at the party. "I need you, I have to dance three dances and I'm out of partners again," she took the mint sauce bowl right out of his hand, hooked her arm into his and dragged him to the dancefloor. "I've danced with James and Abigail's husband Frederick already, and Henry must be coming late, so you arrived just in time to save me."

Before he knew it, they were in position and the music was starting.

"Crap, I don't know this one!" she stage-whispered and then giggled when he tried to lead her into steps she didn't know, signalling every turn or stop. She seemed to have drunk some of the punch before Rumpelstiltskin ruined it because she didn't mind messing up in the public eye. In fact, she was wearing the same dress as on her last party which was quite surely a royal faux pas.

"Ouch," she flinched when she pricked her finger on his hedgehog shoulder pads.

"Sorry," was the first word he got out that evening.

"Didn't want to be touched tonight?" she teased him.

He inspected her hand and took the single droplet of blood into his mouth, healing the finger in the process. Along with it, he consumed another memory.

_The second time he bedded her that night – or she bedded him to be exact – it was in his bedroom; his back against the headboard and her sitting on top of him._

„_Gold... Should I call you... Rumpelstiltskin?" she whispered in the middle of the act._

"_Try it, let me hear it from your lips..."_

"_Rumpels- -" his name was torn by her mouth as she yelped with pleasure._

"_Yesss, call me that," he liked it. _

_Once they were finished, she closed her eyes and while still catching her breath, she touched her forehead to his in another tender gesture he didn't expect to experience ever again. _

"_I'm having trouble believing this," he wondered out loud._

"_What?" she stole a little nip from his lips._

"_This," he kissed back to demonstrate. "I'm not the type of person with whom you should be spending the night before the big day, dearie."_

"_Oh really? I think you're absolutely the type – absolutely __**my**__ type."_

"_Surely not?"_

"_Yeah you are... Men older than me and bad boys used to be my type. A lot of grief that brought me. Now I make it a rule to date men who think I'm too good for them. A recipe for an unequal relationship, I know, but I'd rather be on the better end of it, cherished and appreciated and in control, than where I always was before that..."_

"_And whichever type am I, my dear?"_

"_All of them. I don't know how you do it... But you're all of them," she shook her head with incredulity._

"Why did we stop?"

"Hm?"

"O-oh. Rumpelstiltskin?"

"I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"Look up," Emma pointed to a bundle of mistletoe above them. There was an archway with a note that introduced the foreign tradition to the party as well. It would've been easy to avoid if he was paying attention.

Many dancing couples had already stopped to watch and whisper among themselves.

"Well," the Savior Princess shrugged, "it would be unfair if I didn't follow suit, right?"

There was a hand on the side of face. A soft hand, a woman's hand, a tender touch.

There was another hand at his elbow, a gentle squeeze turning his body closer to a woman's.

There was a woman's body a few inches away from him, warmth radiating from her skin along with a very nice scent.

And there were lips on his lips, just a small peck at first but even that triggered another memory:

"_You?" Emma jumped as soon as she made herself comfortable in his bed. Fortunately, she put her underwear back on after their first time, otherwise it would be very hard to keep up the eye contact._

"_Regina would never even dream about creating the Curse herself, she never had that much power."_

"_But you had?"_

"_Yes."_

"_So all of this..."_

"_My fault, yes."_

_She was quiet for a minute._

"_I'd do anything for Henry and I've only known him for months," she suddenly said, "so let's say I understand the why. But if all you wanted was to jump to a different world to find your son, why do all this Storybrook crap? How did the Curse become this... travesty?"_

"_Weaving a curse out of happy endings turned out to be trickier than I thought. I needed more people involved in the curse so that I could use their happy endings, but the more people I involved the more power I needed for the Curse to work. I spent years making it bigger and bigger it until I realized it was impossible. So I sold it in one of my many deals."_

"_You sold it to Regina?"_

"_That's how we met, actually."_

"_For what?"_

"_A bigger castle."_

"_You had a castle? You had __**two**__ castles?" she scoffed._

"_I needed one that would match my reputation better. Bigger and darker," he defended himself._

"_So you sold the Curse unfinished. Did she make it work, then?"_

"_Not in a million years," bitterness appeared in his voice, dripping down his throat. "She tried and gave up and traded it for a different curse. Then she decided she wanted it back and tried again, stronger this time, but she still failed."_

"_Then who was it?"_

_Mr. Gold gave her a guilty look._

"_No... You didn't," she uttered with disappointment. "Why?"_

"_The world of Snow White and Prince Charming is not that much of a fairy tale for those who aren't Snow White of Prince Charming. You'll see for yourself soon enough."_

After the little peck, Emma leaned in for a much more proper kiss and his eyes slid closed. Watched by people that Emma would avoid like plague once she was completely sober, they partook in a scandalous custom of kissing under the mistletoe. The moment their lips reconnected, another memory from the night returned to him:

_The pillow talk after their second time was much more pleasant than the previous one. She told him that somehow, he was the ultimate mix of her types, and then she asked: "What about me? Am I anywhere near your type?"_

_And he told her as much as he could about his wife and Belle without tearing up, which amounted to about seven sentences with long pauses inbetween. Then he uncovered the information that infuriated him so much it constituted his final push to working with Emma against Regina. _

"_She's alive?"_

"_Yes. Trapped in the psychiatric ward, brainwashed and doped daily. There's nothing I can do for her here..."_

"_But back in the magical world?"_

"_Maybe. She had been gone for over five years when the Curse was triggered, who knows."_

"_It's true love, Rumpels."_

_Suddenly, she rolled on top of him and her hair fell down around his face like a golden waterfall._

"_Promise me you'll look for her if we manage to break the Curse."_

"_I don't know if I can..."_

"_Then promise me you'll let me help."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because I like you, silly," she kissed him, "and true love sounds like something that would make you happy."_

"_But if you like me, or so you say... Is this you being honorable and selfless?"_

"_Well of course if you two don't work out I'm more than ready to steal you from her. How honorable is that?" she smirked._

"Mua," Emma ended their kiss with a theatrical sound. Some bystanders gave a forced chuckle and some even tried to clap. "I never said the tradition wasn't awkward!" she told them and they laughed for real. "Now where did the music go?" As her hand left his cheek, the memories fell into place:

"_Tell me I can trust you." – "I cannot tell you that, Miss Swan... But maybe soon."_

"_Oh god... __**Rumpelstiltskin**__... It's true, isn't it. The book, the fairy tales, the Curse..." – "Do sit down, Miss Swan." – "Your name is freaking Rumpelstiltskin..." – "Would you like some tea?" – "Which means that Regina is the Evil Queen and Mary Margaret is Snow White..." – "Something stronger, then." – "Is she really my mother?" – "I believe I keep some brandy in the back of the shop." – "Answer me! And what __**the hell**__ are we doing in your shop?!" – "Would you prefer to have your pretty little meltdown in Granny's Diner?" – "Answer me," she whispered, pleading. So he did._

"_Evil isn't born, dearie. It's made."_

"_You can trust me now, Miss Swan." – "I can? Something changed." _

"_You worry me, Miss Swan." – "Why?" – "Because deep down, you'll always be a disbeliever."_

"_You and I... We know who we are... We're in that grey area that shouldn't be in fairy tales."_

_A surge of power exploded through the Mayor's mansion, shattering windows and tossing furniture around. Mr. Gold was thrown against a wall, but Emma stood unaffected. "She found out!" he roared over the noise of magic that rendered him immobile. "It's now or never! Place the last crystal and go after her, use the wand!" The savior looked at him in shock. She had been counting on him being there with her through the whole deal. "You can do this, Emma, you were born to do this. You are the child of the true love that I used to finish the Curse. You can do this." She gave him a brave nod and went forward to face the Evil Queen._

"You ok? Sorry for attacking you like that," Emma remarked with an impish smile.

He just looked at her in awe.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she became worried.

"Swan Lake?" was the only thing he said, offering her his arm.

"Sure, just let me get my coat."

As they approached a door leading to the castle gardens, the cold draft injected some sobriety into her veins. She asked the footboy who brought her furcoat whether her son had arrived yet, to which the answer was no.

She realized the reason behind Rumpelstiltskin's behavior half-way through the snowy gardens, stopping him in the middle of that living Christmas postcard. They would never make it to the lake.

"You remembered, didn't you."

"Yes," he murmured, facing away from her.

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Good?" he choked on the word. "She's alive, _been_ alive all these weeks, and all I've been doing was making deals and spinning the spinning wheel backwards and receiving notes and dancing with you! The princess should've told me!"

"I wanted to, but I was afraid you'd flip out, call me a liar, trash the room and never come again."

Rumpelstiltskin gaped at her, unable to respond because he would have to agree.

"I'm sorry you've spent all this time not knowing, but believe me, the time wasn't wasted. I did some sniffing around of my own. I think I know where she could be. How about a little trip to Avonlea?"

"Huh?" Rumpelstiltskin made an inarticulate sound. He couldn't believe what she was saying sometimes. She was Emma the Unbelievable. Emma the Unbelievable was taking him to find _Her_. No running, Rumpelstiltskin. Besides, he was out of excuses. There were exactly twelve spiders under his bed, nowhere to run anymore. Time to face the music of chipped porcelain.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Let us go."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"At least let me change-"

"Now!"

"Ugh, you're insufferable sometimes," she groaned as he teleported them away from the Christmas party. Avonlea was the furthest of White Kingdom's neighbors but still a neighbor with a very similar weather. It was crispy freezing there.

The warlock spun around as if his true love could be found behind the nearest rock.

"Rumpelstiltskin," Emma spat his name, upset because she found herself standing in a foot of fresh snow with nothing but ballroom shoes and stockings covering her legs.

She could hear his frantic panting while he turned from here to there, quite out of his mind at the moment.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" Emma realized that yelling wasn't going to work so she caught his arm and said gently: "_Rumpels_."

He stopped in his tracks.

"You have to tell me," he whispered desperately, not unsimilar to Emma's own breakdown after she found out that the Curse was real. She nodded.

"We're looking for a place deep in the woods that lie on the border with White Kingdom. It's a clearance with no trees and even no grass, quite a big one and close to a lake."

Rumpelstiltskin calmed down. He closed his eyes and for a while, he seemed not only sane but beyond human intelligence, old and wise and all-knowing. His hands shot out to grasp her and they moved in space again, landing in the middle of a forest that was dead silent.

"Alright, first things first. I demand better shoes."

Not even questioning that, the Dark One snapped his fingers and fulfilled her wish.

"Now follow me," she took the lead this time. "I visited Mr. French, AKA Sir Maurice, the lord of Avonlea, about a week ago. I wrote him some letters before that but I didn't wanna come until he invited me himself. People will tell you much more if they think the whole interview was their idea, you know."

"You lied your nose off in front of him, didn't you, Emma dear?"

"You bet. I told him I was best friends with his daughter back in Storybrook. I told him how sad she was in her padded cell and that I wanted to visit her. You need to know that Mr. French – Sir Maurice – has gotten sick lately. And guilt-tripping someone who thinks he's on his deathbed is easier than stealing candy from a baby."

"How mean, well done, dearie," Rumpelstilskin almost giggled. She hadn't heard him giggle in a while.

"_You can't find her_, he told me, _nobody can, not even me. After I had her exorcised from the Dark One's influence, she was still not herself_, he said. And that's when Regina came in."

"Of course she did," he gripped the arm that was leading him across the empty clearing a little more tightly.

"She offered to provide a place for his daughter to _come to her senses without time marring her face_, that's how she worded it. Apparently, one of daddy's main concerns was that she'd become too old to be profitably married. She would be locked up,_ safe and sound until she became the daughter he used to know_, Regina promised. Of course she forgot to mention that there would be no visiting hours. And another detail..."

"That no human being can turn back into exactly what they used be," Rumpelstilskin knew the catch, he had often used it in his own deals.

"Exactly. She would be imprisoned forever, owned by Regina who was the only one with access to her. The price she asked for doing Sir Maurice this _favor_ was ridiculous if you ask me: Just the neck of these woods to be added to her kingdom.

"To become the Blind Witch's landlord," he explained. "Her gingerbread house is in these woods."

"We're here."

"Where?"

"In front of Belle's tower."

Rumpelstiltskin's body jerked when the name was spoken.

"Emma Emma... I don't see anything."

"Of course you don't. It's invisible," she winked at him.

"A tower that is invisible even to the Dark One?" he frowned.

"Especially to the Dark One. The spell must work in proportion to the amount of magic you possess. The catch is that you need magic to get inside..."

"Clever. I might just start respecting the woman," he grumbled.

"Pity she didn't live to see that," Emma sneered. Suddenly, she hugged him even closer with her arm snaking around his waist. "The door is here," she took his hand and laid it against an invisible surface. "Can you open it?"

"Child's play."

The tower didn't become visible to him until they were several feet up the stairs, so like a blind man, he had to rely on Emma's instructions. It very much felt like their Christmas dance, just with the roles reversed.

They were almost at the top when Emma tripped on something.

"Stupid skirt... Oh, it's hair," she kicked at the obstacle, a stray of hair that became thicker and more filled with dust as it slithered up the stairs and into the chamber door.

Rumpelstiltskin flew up the stairs so quick he might as well've teleported only to freeze in the doorway.

"B-Belle," he said the name for the first time in five or thirty-three years, depending on the point of view.

A young maiden slowly looked away from the window. It was her and yet, she wasn't quite there. Those eyes... He was stabbed in the heart by those empty eyes.

Emma gave them a minute, two, three... But she didn't hear any words and Rumpelstiltskin never moved from the spot. So she cleared her throat and got down to the damsel saving business. The girl was unresponsive and seemed to have been traumatized for quite some time. So many scars in her psyche and yet her perfect figure and porcelain skin were unaffected. Puddled around the room in dirty and heavy heeps was her hair which Emma tried to cut off but no blade worked. Several broken and blunted tools were lying around the room and for some reason Emma was sure that Belle tried to use them not only for her hair but also for her wrists until she realized that in order to preserve her beauty, the tower not only froze her in time, it also made her invulnerable. Did the Queen even bother to bring her food over the five years? Probably not since she didn't have to.

"Alright, let's get you out," Emma pulled her up and supported her weight which wasn't easy in her ball gown. She gave the unnerved Dark One something to do: "Make sure her hair doesn't get stuck on anything and then walk ahead of us so that you don't step on it."

Once they left the tower, Belle took a shattering breath and fell to her knees. Becoming mortal again made her skin lose that beautiful pink tint and go terribly pale, green even. Suddenly, she gave a terrified sob. Some of her hair was still in the tower and it was slowly being sucked in! Emma and Rumpelstiltskin cut it off immediately.

"She's hyperventilating," Emma noticed.

"This will calm her down," the warlock took her hand and the girl fainted right into his arms.

And that was it. With his attention solely on the beauty, Rumpelstiltskin teleported Emma back to her castle and left. If the whole thing wasn't her idea to begin with, she would feel very much brushed aside. Instead, she tried to be happy about their reunion.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

She did not spend the next month sitting in her room and waiting for Rumpelstilskin to contact her. Though she wondered from time to time how he was doing, she had more urgent things on her mind when winter changed from a white-clad beauty to a cold-hearted murderess.

She accompanied Snow White on her first trip around the kingdom since she gave birth (to Emma - what a mind-boggling thing to think of). Using the supply of thawing potion White Castle kept in the treasury, they helped unfreeze the wells, make the main communications and key mountain trails accessible, heal frostbites and even save a few lives.

Then she joined James as he heeded a call from Cinderella's messenger. She was so secretive about the nature of her plea that she only told them during a private audience in her chambers.

"Where's Alexandra?" Emma noticed the empty crib rightaway.

"Gone," the princess sighed.

"Rumpelstiltskin?" James asked with trepidation.

"Yes. Your friend Rumpelstiltskin took her four days ago."

Cinderella's eyes penetrated Emma's, but not as accusingly as she expected.

"But that's not all he did, is it?"

"No. He told me where to find my husband."

"Thomas?" James exclaimed. Thomas II had been gone for months now, leaving the country to an aging king, a commoner-born princess and an infant heiress.

"He said that Thomas was taken by fairy magic. That losing my husband and my child would be unfair because I only deserve to lose one." Ella's mouth curved with self-deprecation. "There are many wishing wells in our world, he said, but only one that fairies don't control, only one that can help me. He gave me a map with its location. He promised that well would return my loved one even if it was against destiny."

"Forgive me the cruel question, Ella," James's face looked down right pained with empathy, "but which do you want us to pursue? Alexandra or Thomas?"

"My husband," Cinderella made her choice, "please help me find my husband."

Emma's mind went on a different track whatsoever. Henry. After not arriving to the Christmas ball, Henry wasn't responding to any of her letters. She shrugged it off as just sulking at first, then wondered if their mail was being intercepted, then became nervous about it. This road trip could be useful in more ways than one – she could use the well to find out if Henry was alright – and if not, she could pluck him out of there.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

The boots Rumpelstiltskin mindlessly whipped out for her when saving Belle were perfect for Emma's quest, especially when they entered the mountains.

The dark brown leather armored outfit from Snow White provided the perfect share of protection and mobility.

The cloak hemmed by James's mother was not just for show as it constituted both a sleeping mat and a blanket at nights.

The horse found by Jiminy proved to be a perfect match for its rider since it had a mind of its own that knew when to disobey in order to save Emma's life.

The two-handed sword she got from James was just heavy enough and perfectly balanced and really beautiful with a Princess Savior insignia on it, but... She would really like to have her good old 9mm instead. Especially in situations like these.

The water in the last uncompromised wishing well was the most delicious thing around – or so the hydra thought because it wouldn't back away from it unless Emma and James slew it. Emma realized that with James being a sword master, she would be much more useful with a bow. Or, _again_, her 9mm. She distracted the creature by attacking its tail until James managed to cut off the first head, and then she joined him in the front. When the other head was off, the monster's body toppled over and if James hadn't tackled her out of the way, Emma would've been crushed.

Lying on top of him, Emma braced herself on her elbows and waited for a terribly awkward feeling which never arrived. There was no chemistry between them as a man and a woman. With great relief, Emma realized that he already felt like a part of her family.

"Thanks, dad," she smirked.

He gave her a radiant smile, so happy to hear her call him that.

"We should do our thing with the wishing well and move before the heads grow back."

"They frigging grow back?!"

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

For the fourth night in a row, Emma had trouble sleeping. They returned from their quest with good news and bad news: Thomas II was returned to his family but Henry was nowhere to be found; all the wishing well showed them was a hole in the ground at his island. Yet again, the fairies visited the royal couple to tell them that their grandson was currently fullfilling his destiny in another world, safe and sound as much as his adventures allowed him. He would return one day to find his true love, they promised.

Besides, James and Snow couldn't afford to leave their kingdom now that the northern regions were paralyzed by frozen food supplies and frost wolf attacks. Should she travel across nine kingdoms alone to find her son when she barely knew how to get to the first border? She rolled in bed every night, worrying and contemplating her place in this world of unfair fairy tales.

Suddenly, someone was sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Oh, so very sorry, didn't mean to do that," Rumpelstiltskin hickuped. Then he started chuckling uncontrollably: "Just one little thought of you and poof, my magic did the rest. Magic magic magic, that's my life, annnnd guess what ~ it comes at a price!" He laughed at his own joke, a sense of tremendous tragedy obvious in the sound. That and a whole lot of alcohol.

"What happened?" Emma asked carefully.

He just kept that unnatural laugh going until it turned into an even stranger noise which she recognized as sobbing. She didn't need the answer. She moved to sit behind him and wrapped her arms around him for comfort.

"She's gone," he told her anyway, about ten minutes later.

"Did she never get better?" she probed gently.

"She did, with _magic_," Rumpelstiltskin seemed to despise the word now. "She was as healthy on the inside as she could be, healthier than _me_," he lilted. "But she's not a birdie anymore, she's a flower now. So silent and judgy, just like petunias. I knew she'd never be my Belle again, just like she'd never be her father's little darling, but... The look in her eyes murdered me every single day..."

It felt so foreign to him to fall apart in front of someone who's trying to hold the pieces of him together with their arms. What he was saying didn't want to be said for he was the Dark One, not the Sharing One, hihihi... Uh.

But this was his lady savior, the one who broke the dragon-teeth bars to his cell and shrugged it off, the one who asked him for help and did him a favor independently on each other, with no deals involved, the one who said she wanted him to be happy. Alcohol helped break the dam and Rumpelstiltskin poured his heart out.

"Her contempt was long on its way, but it didn't quite arrive until she saw me bring Cinderella's baby. I gave it to a skinner's wife in exchange for the hide of a talking bear that the skinner had killed, a perfectly good business. Silly stupid Rumpelstiltskin, he thought she would understand, he thought she would see the still-born that wasn't in the woman's arms anymore but that was still nested in her eyes... She didn't. She came to me the next day, offering a deal."

Emma rested her chin on his shoulder, hugging him a little more warmly.

"_A new life_, she said. _A chance, _she asked of me. _Starting over, with no magic to mess things up,_ she kept saying. _Wipe out my memory and leave me alone_, she meant."

"She must've been still traumatized," Emma whispered.

"_I've never known life as it was supposed to be lived. From cage to cage, I've never been free, never the master of my own path..._" His impish voice shaked when he repeated the words. "She painted me the picture quite well. Used the red from my heart. Turns out she's very good at fingerpainting. Maybe she could build a career on it now that I let her go."

"You accepted the deal?"

"She wanted it. So I made the potion and asked for its price."

When he fell silent, she squeezed him tighter. He seemed to need that because his hands grasped at ther forearms, pulling her closer.

"A kiss," he whispered. He might've as well wailed like a banshee.

"A kiss from her? To break your curse? But she didn't do it, did she...?" The man in her arms was still sligthly inhuman in his appearance.

"Oh yes, she did," came the bitter answer.

"What happened, then?"

"Nothing - - nothing! Nothing..." His nails dug into her forearms as he barked the words louder and louder, body tensing and shaking. "Nothing. Nothing!"

She calmed him down by holding tight and rocking him back and forth for a minute.

"And after _nothing_ happened, she drank the potion... And I didn't understand, I still don't understand... Why _nothing_ happened..."

"She was so very young, Rumpels, I could see it in her face. I saw a girl who was way over her head, too young to go there..."

"She was a few days short of seventeen when I took her to my castle, a perfectly ripe age in this world. She was about to enter an arranged marriage anyway..."

"Hey, I'm not saying anything. You two shared a true love's kiss, that's enough proof for me."

They fell silent. She laid back on the bed, taking her with him.

"It's like I always said. Love makes us sick."

"I guess... Gosh this world blows if you're you and I'm me. Wanna get out of here?"

With his face buried in her nightgown, he mumbled: "Whatever do you mean?"

"Well, I was thinking, we can either get off our asses and visit some other worlds now that we both lost our sons to them... Or we can stay here, sit and moan and slowly become heavy drinkers."

"Do we drink too much?"

"Yes, Rumpels, we drink too much. We drink whenever we're sad, or stressed, and I don't know about you, but bored as well."

"And when I can't sleep," the warlock completed her list.

"And even the non-therapist Jiminy knows that patterns like this need to be broken. A change of environment, maybe?"

For the first time that night, he looked at her with a serious, contemplating look.

"There's no more world-crossing magic in here, no magic beans, no curses."

"We do, however, know of a door that opened between this world and Neverland quite recently ago. Shouldn't Neverland be full of magic? Even world-crossing magic, maybe?"

"So I could find my son... While checking on yours in the process, you cunning little fox."

"I don't remember trying to hide my intentions," she smiled.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

Convincing her parents that travelling alone with Rumpelstiltskin was a good idea became very hard after a maid found him in Emma's bed the next morning. She shot out the bedchamber and carried the information straight to the king and queen, stopping only by two or three curious guards to spread the gossip while still managing a record time.

Not exactly a first step in the right direction.

But really, what better way to travel to a different world than with a semi-evil warlock? He can teleport. He can provide food and shelter with a snap of his fingers. He can fight off enemies without breaking a sweat.

"The question is, what will he want in return?" Snow White worried.

"He's not coming because of a deal," Emma explained, "he's coming because he have similar goals."

"Why doesn't he go alone, then?" James asked.

"The same reason you took me with you to save Thomas," she replied but James didn't follow. "Questing alone sucks!" she shrugged. "He's gonna have much more fun with me. Besides, making each other company might save us from going crazy. God knows we could both use the comfort."

"Fun, company, _comfort_?" Snow's eyebrow went high up to her hairline.

So yeah, the second step wasn't any better than the first.

But when Emma laid it down that she didn't trust the fairies and that she was going with or without her conveniently superpowered ally, the Whites couldn't but give their consent.

Packed and ready to go, she gave them the most affectionate farewell.

"Love you, dad," she whispered in James's ear while hugging him.

"The only reason it's hard for me to call you mother is because you were my best friend in Storybrook," she told Snow White earnestly. "You're already like my sister, that's why I can't see you as my mom."

"Then I guess I couldn't wish for more," the queen accepted her fate like she always did, with grace instead of spite.

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

So much happened in Neverland. They found no magic beans but they did find a mirror leading to Wonderland. To get the Mad Hatter out of his prison wasn't that hard. With a hat made from Neverland magic, Jefferson rewarded them by snatching Rumpelstiltskin's son from wherever they told him to look. In the end, they found both Henry and Baelfire, just like they wished. Just like they wished? Actually no, not like they wished at all.

Emma caught herself thinking that she should've never come to Neverland. Maybe she should've stayed in the castle; maybe she should've been passive for once and have less shit happen to her.

Peter Pan was a great kid, he had his flaws but his heart was pure. But Peter Pan wasn't Henry, Peter Pan was someone else. His reunion with Emma was forced and awkward.

Baelfire was not a kid by a long shot. Emma did the math: He was thirteen when he came to Earth, eighteen when new-born Emma arrived, thirty-six when Emma had Henry and fourty-six now. Why were these dates important? How did they know where to look for him? All Rumpelstiltskin needed to do was come into contact with Henry's skin for the first time. The moment he touched the boy's hand by accident, he knew the identity of his father.

Needless to say, the second family reunion was a trainwreck.

Baelfire was furious about being kidnapped from one world to another without his approval.

Emma was sickened to see the vile man who forced her to have sex with him all those years ago.

Henry was upset because while he didn't like the idea of having one parent, he hated the idea of having two parents and a grandpa on top.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what to feel. The man standing before him was a villain and he had no right to judge villains, especially ones he himself helped create. He tried to connect to the man, even when he decided to leave Peter's tree house and seek the company of pirates, even when he became Captain Baelfire, even when he started a conflict with the lost boys.

Suddenly, Emma and Rumpelstiltskin found themselves on opposite sides of a war in Neverland. Their loyalties didn't lie that deep, they found out during one stormy night.

"Shit," Emma whispered as she stubbed her toe in the darkness of Rumpelstiltskin's cabin. He was out of the bed and had her pinned to the wall in a second.

"Hi," she wheezed out. He loosened the grip on her windpipe the moment he recognized her.

"Whatever are you doing here, lady savior?"

"Umm, we're infiltrating the ship," she shrugged.

"Oh, is this you overpowering me?"

"You think I give a rat's ass about - - shh!" hearing a noise nearby, Emma tugged on Rumpelstiltskin's hand and rushed him to hide inside his own closet. For some reason but not for the first or the last time, he complied. One of the lost boys entered the cabin, looked around and left.

A lighting struck closeby, followed by a loud thunder that seemed to intimidate the roaring sounds of sea storm into a few seconds of silence. They held their breaths and heard faint clanking of sworfight.

"Peter really thinks he can take over the ship," Emma spilled immedately. "He made me promise I would distract you for at least a couple of minutes. Did you know that I'm their cook now? Poor boys, they really believe that what I serve them is real cooking, as if they never knew the real thing, not even Peter."

"Peter?" Rumpelstiltskin caught the name she used for her son.

She hid her eyes in the darkness and said nothing.

A pirate fell past the cabin's window with a scream, followed by a splash.

"Someone's going for a swim," Emma remarked.

"Until he's eaten by the crocodiles."

"Since when are there crocodiles?"

"Since Bae told me to make them to prevent an attack from under water. Also to make walking the plank more interesting. Magic... My darn magic may just be the only reason he keeps me close. Every time he wants something from me, all he needs to do is call me papa..."

Emma frowned: "He's using you?"

"Not any more than _Peter_ is using you," he scoffed.

Suddenly, he lurched forward and stopped only an inch away from her face.

"He told me to kill you the next time I saw you," he breathed. "But I don't think he meant it, do you? He lies a lot, to his crew, to me. Like when he says he forgave me. Or when he talks about things he would never do in his life, just to sound tough I'm sure, my sweet boy, pretending to be Pinocchio just like Pinocchio pretended to be him..."

"What did he say he did?"

"He told me a story about how you two met... That you were working under his supervision and that he recognized you two came from the same place... Insolent little bitch, he called you, so unlike him, clearly a lie. He said he spent weeks waiting to punish you for reminding him... " His words cut into her like daggers, but they were becoming more and more anguished as he continued. "He said that when it was paycheck time, he locked you up in his office and made you work for that money, made sure to... to humiliate you and – all perverse fiction, all terrible lies, Emma dear, aren't they. Aren't they?" his eyes begged her to agree with him.

Emma didn't say anything.

"No... He would never..." Rumpelstiltskin broke down. "He wouldn't touch you, he's so much better than me and I would never touch you like that... And Henry, Henry couldn't come from that, please tell me he lied..."

Slowly, Emma's arms went around him and craddled him against her chest.

They heard Baelfire's pained scream and Peter Pan's triumphant caw. A cut off hand fell past the window without a splash, swallowed by a crocodile while still in the air.

Rumpelstiltskin just closed his eyes and squeezed Emma tighter.

"You don't want to be here anymore," she finally said something after a couple of minutes. "It's okay. I don't want to be here anymore, either."

"But I can't just leave..."

"Yes you can. You just teleported us."

When he opened his eyes, he realized they were in his bedchamber in the Dark Castle.

"Oh no... How did I...?"

"You moved us to the portal, then we passed through, then you moved us here."

"No, no... I ran, I left him again, I ran! **Coward**! I have to-"

"No, wait. Rumpels, wait."

The warlock stopped struggling to get out of her arms. Emma took a shaky breath and asked some terribly real questions.

"Do they even want us around? Do they want us as parents, or just sidekicks, or even as occasional confidants, anything that would compensate for them having to stand our company...? Do we want to stay with them for them, or for us?"

A shroud of silence was cast upon the Dark Castle for the rest of the night and the next day. The questions were hung in the air to loom above their heads while they walked with no direction in mind, ate only little and barely slept. Some words were maybe exchanged over tea and in the morning, they could remember their mouths moving and a hushed tone coming out, but those were insignificant.

The second night, Emma knocked on Rumpelstiltskin's door.

"I should go see Snow and James, tell them that I'm back and what happened."

Rumpelstiltskin nodded in his armchair.

"And I shall need some time alone, to spin. To absorb, and adapt. And to spin some more, preferrably. You understand, my dear, surely you will excuse me."

"How much time are we talking about?" Emma sensed he would be gone for more than weeks this time.

"When I... _deserted_ Bae for the first time, it took me about eight years before I went back to business. After Belle left, I needed only one. Spinning is a play on S-words, really. Solitude should lead to Serenity or at least to Sanity, right?"

"But you're not alone," she squated in front of him and laid a hand on his knee. "If you visit, we could work in some Solace."

"Miss Savior is being charitable again."

"Maybe I just don't want you to leave me."

"Why?" Rumpelstilstkin looked at her as if he just woke up, fire building up in his voice. "Why? What for? I - - this creature has only had one chance at true love and it screwed up. You, Emma dearest, have no chance whatsoever. So what is this for? Because it doesn't _smell_ like friendship!"

"I'm tired of hearing about true love, true love can kiss my ass. True love is magic, it's way too easy and suspicious, just like fairies. Where I grew up, love was something you had to work for, not just before the big kiss, but after as well; it was hard and that's why we cherished it. It had a million faces and none was any _truer_ than the other. Sometimes it wasn't that much about lust or romance, it was just some fucking great companionship. And _no one_ in this world can stop me from having that. Well, in this case, no one except you."

Rumpelstiltskin gaped at her.

"So many words to think about," he murmured.

"I prefer showing to telling," she diminished the distance between them and kissed him.

He let her; even closed his eyes and held her close; even pursed his lips and opened his mouth at correct times; even groaned a bit when she touched his tongue with hers. For a person in shock, he was quite pliant to her demands.

He tasted a bit like Christmas spices.

"Twelve," he tore away to tell her.

"What?"

"Spiders."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he murmured and dipped down to return the kiss, shyly and almost virginally. What a turn on, Emma was surprised to realize.

"Must think, alone," he pulled away and she protested. "Solace and Seduction are new S-words. Time, my dearest savior, please... I need to spin and spin and spin."

"Whatever time you need, Rumpels... I just hope it'll be before my hair turns gray."

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

A month and a half later, Emma was sitting in the White Castle court room with her parents where a line of peasants came forward with their requests.

"They're there as we speak, Your Highness! Standing in the field, connected to the cursed turnip, hands grown into the back of the one before them as if they were one monstrous animal, granny to her husband, granddaughter to granny, their dog to the girl, their cat to the dog and some mouse to the cat! The turnip is large and it seems to be made of gold, but if the old man knew what horror it would bring him, he'd never try to pluck it!"

"That sounds awful!" Snow White exclaimed.

"Like a really cheap horror flick," Emma agreed.

"What can we possibly do? Send our doctors?" James wondered out lout.

"Oh, no! No one can touch them or they will be merged in as well! The only solution we have so far is chopping their hands off with a sword or an axe."

"Exciting, but unnecessary," a high-pitched male voice came from a far-end corner. "All you need is a touch of someone with no magic in their soul and the curse will be broken."

"Rumpelstilskin," James grumbled the name and everyone went silent.

The warlock came into the light and granted the royals three flamboyant bows, the last and the most over-the-top aimed at Emma: "Your Highness; Your Princessness; Your Saviorship."

They exchanged an ear-to-ear smile.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite future court magician," she replied.

"At your service."

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

The End

°o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o- - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o - - - °o °o

**Author's Note**: So, the season 1 finale was really disappointing for me. I was hoping for an epic scene where Emma discovers magic, an intense moment when Emma finds out Gold is the feared and powerful Rumpelstiltskin; and I was looking forward to Rumbelle scenes with some fricking chemistry instead of the sterile family-like reunion I saw. But still, I wouldn't blame the show of the fact that it took me a month of every-day editing and re-reading to make this chapter. It just wanted to be a really long process, I guess.

**From Author's Workshop**:

Henry being Peter Pan – I was so happy to find an acceptable excuse for getting rid of Henry. In all honesty, I don't think I'm any good at writing children who aren't overly intellectual and morbid, so as much of a cop-out as it was, I'm happy for the Peter Pan idea.

Pairing – Originally, I wanted to get sidetracked with some Emma/Jefferson romance before getting back to Golden Swan. But honestly, Jefferson and Emma had quite some chemistry on the show, how would I make their relationship blossom and fade on one page?

Character trait – Crocodiles are Rumpel's favorite animal. True story.

Fun fact – Rumpelstiltskin has seven-league boots on, which is why he can teleport with using only a drop of his magic. I just pulled it out of my ass but I like it.

Charming being named James White – I just thought that since they rule over the White Kingdom, James would take Snow White's family name instead of the other way around.

Spelling – I went with the more common spelling, Rumpelstiltskin instead of Rumplestiltskin.

Timeline – I wanted Belle to be locked up for at least two generations in her tower, with time being one of the main reasons she went crazy, but Belle met the Queen and the Queen is not that old because Snow White is not that old... So I gave Rumpelstiltskin about 50-60 years between losing Baelfire and meeting Belle and then 5 years of Belle locked up in the tower before the Curse was triggered.

Plotholes in the show – I didn't look for these, I just encountered them whe trying to make my story work. What doesn't add up in the show is why and how Rumpelstiltskin finished the Curse with the drop of true love magic. He bottled true love and used some of it on the Curse and then had the rest hidden inside Maleficient – that's what he told James. But he didn't have the Curse at that moment! Maleficient must've had it, because Regina exchanged it with her for the sleeping curse BEFORE James's quest to find the sleeping Snow White. Did he finish the Curse after getting the two hairs, then quickly sold it to Regina who quickly sold it to Maleficient? Why would Regina sell it and take it back so quickly? Did he pop in to finish the Curse while Maleficient had it? Impossible, Maleficient said she didn't know the creator of the Curse, not to mention that Rumpels had no motivation to finish the Curse at that moment. Did he keep that bit of true love instead of using it and then finished the Curse when Regina got it back? Bullshit! He was imprisoned by then, he surely didn't have it on him and if he did, why not use "the strongest magic of all" to get out of the prison. And even if he did finish the potion from his jail cell, we should've seen it, all we've seen was him advising Regina to use her father's heart. So WHEN, HOW and WHY ?

Another plothole – Rumpelstiltskin was imprisoned when Cinderella was very pregnant. Then, Snow White with her baby bump visited him for advice. By the time Snow White gave birth to Emma, Cinderella's child should've been already born. And yet we meet her in Storybrook while she's still pregnant. I had a problem with this because of my time-stopping theory – when we return to FTL, should Cinderella be pregnant or have a baby on her hip? Technically, I should've said that a few months passed in FTL before the Curse was broken because when Emma entered Storybrook, the clock started ticking and Cinderella gave birth. But can you imagine her giving birth while the whole FTL is in some sort of a limbo?


End file.
